Baby Doll
by writerAngel7
Summary: Thid installment of the 'Never Never After' Chronicles. read please


If you've lived in NYC before, you know that it's not all Times Square, bright lights big city, the Big Apple and Saks 5th Avenue

**A/N: it's been a while, people! Explanation: I've been working at the sequel; I have stupid summer gym; and I've recently started working on a writing piece of my own original work that's getting pretty serious.**

**Disclaimer: I have NO idea what life is like in NYC, so if I'm wrong, please don't flame or hate b/c I disclaim this now. also, I would NEVER want this to really happen to Nick.**

**XXX**

If you've lived in NYC before, you know that it's not all Times Square, bright lights big city, the Big Apple and Saks 5th Avenue.

There's pick pockets and robbers and abductors and all sorts of sick, twisted people just about anywhere… they just know how to hide themselves.

So, from that, we can conclude that a late evening walk for, oh, I don't know… a third of the most teenage-girl-population demanding boy band in America isn't really a good idea, right?

Right.

It just so happened one night around eleven in downtown NYC that I was taking a walk around my neighborhood where I knew everyone and we all respected each other that I heard a fight taking place in one of the local allies.

I almost just walked right by it because fights were frequent in the area between guys or groups, but as I got closer to the alley, I could tell something was different…

When you've lived in that part of the city for as long as I had, you knew what the regular fight sounded like: equal effort, equal struggle.

This fight didn't have either. It sounded like one half of it was a hell of a lot less defensive than the other. If it had been a regular fight, I would've walked on by because those were never anything serious to worry about… but I didn't like fights that weren't fair… not after what one in my past had taken from me.

So I ducked into the opening of the alleyway and saw that the fight was between four guys, three on the more aggressive side ganging up on one man alone. I could hear the lone guy moaning in pain as the sound of the other guys' fists made contact with his body, and there wasn't much sign of struggle.

The thing was… I recognized the three fighters.

"MARCO!"

The tallest of the offensive craned his neck over his shoulder and I glared at him.

He dropped the loner to the ground from where he had a hold on the poor guy's shirt and turned around to face me.

"Evening stroll, my lady?" he asked with a mocking bow and a smirk.

"Shut it, Marco," I seethed, "What do you think you boys are doing?"

"Pretty boy here looked a little out of touch with our homely neighborhood, so we decided to give him a proper welcome," one of the others said, the last one laughing in agreement.

Quinton and Kahn.

I pushed past Marco to get a better look at the guy they'd roughed up, but Kahn grabbed my arm as I got closer.

"Now, now, you don't want to invade the high class man's personal space," he snickered.

I yanked out of his grip and knelt by the loner.

'My G-d… he's just a kid…' I thought as I took him in.

Pale, now scratched, bruised, and bloodied skin, ringlet curly brown hair tangled and disheveled, eyes clenched tightly shut, and now torn up nice clothing.

He looked no more than sixteen at the most.

"Will you guys just get out of here?" I snapped at the boys that were leering over my shoulder.

Quinton grabbed my forearm and swung me to my feet, folding my arms behind me as Marco bent close to my face and asked, "What're you going to do about it, Baby Doll? Huh?"

I broke one of my arms free from Quint's grip and shoved the heel of my hand at Marco's nose.

There was a resounding snap and he staggered backwards, holding his nose.

Quinton tried to shove me to the ground so he and Kahn could get a good blow in, but I ducked out as he loosened his grip on my arm and let him fall to the ground, his face hitting the rugged asphalt hard.

Kahn came at me next, but I turned and raised my foot just in time for it to come in contact where the sun don't shine.

I quickly went to the kid, still lying on the alley floor and gingerly took his forearm as I tried to lift him to his feet.

He groaned in protest, but got to his feet anyway.

I slung his arm around my shoulder and quickly led him through the maze of alleys in the neighborhood I knew like the back of my hand until we came to my backyard.

I hurried him in through the back door and sat him down at the kitchen table.

"Hon, that you?" my mom called.

"Yeah!" I cried back, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink.

As I sat down next to the kid at the table and started to get stuff out of the kit, Ma walked in and gasped.

"Marco and his boys were giving him a rough time and he was outnumbered," I murmured, pulling out a washcloth, some bandaging and antiseptic.

"Make sure he gets home ok, you hear?" Her face had gone slightly ashen and the look in her eyes distant, and I knew she was thinking about it too…

"Yeah, Ma."

With that, she walked out of the kitchen.

"Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" I asked.

He groaned in response and I went to the sink and ran the washcloth under warm water before squeezing it damp and taking it back to the table and starting to clean his face.

Under the dirt and blood, his pale skin was bruised in several places and scratched here or there, no doubt by the other boys' rings, and he actually looked kind of cute…

"Kid… you got a name?" I asked.

"Nick," he muttered as I wiped away a bit of blood that had trailed its way along his jaw line.

"And what were you doing walking around here so late, Nick?"

"Got into a fight with my brothers… wanted to walk it off…"

"Not so smart, huh?"

He shook his head.

"Where're you from? Nowhere near here, obviously."

I kept cleaning away the dirt and blood and he winced here or there where he was sore.

"Hollywood… in town for a concert."

"Really? Didn't know there was something good playing around here. What band?"

"Jonas Brothers."

I stopped for a second and gaped before saying, "Didn't exactly take those boys to have guy fans… but whatever floats your boat."

"I'm not a fan… I'm one of them," he muttered as I wiped away the last trace of blood from his nose.

I saw it then.

Nick Jonas.

"Wow… G-d, what were you thinking? Aren't you supposed to be up at Madison Square Garden?"

"Yeah… I got lost…"

"No shit…" I murmured as I started applying antiseptic to his cuts and scratches, "You're just lucky Marco didn't pull his blade on you."

"You knew those guys?"

"Unfortunately… they used to know someone that lived here."

I started putting small band aids on the more minor scratches.

"Brother?"

"You could say…" I murmured as I taped down gauze on his temple and jaw where he'd gotten some tougher blows.

"What happened?"

I brushed a speck of dirt off his nose and said, "There you go."

His brow furrowed, but he stood anyway.

"Your people aren't going to be happy seeing you walk back into town in that. C'mon."

I headed out of the kitchen for the stairs. He lingered for a moment before following.

I came to the first doorway on the left.

It had been closed for three months now. No one went in.

'Everything's probably right where he left it… just covered in a layer of dust…' I thought absently as I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

With the light of the moon drifting in through the window, the room looked more eerie than I'd ever thought it could.

The bed was still unmade, drawers askew, clothes strewn on the floor, papers and pens scattered on the rickety desk and a tumble of shoes falling out of the floor of the ajar closet.

The dark teal walls looked faded and dim.

The air, though musty, even smelled the same; acrylic paint, pine air freshener, and mint gum.

I tilted my head back just the slightest so the tears wouldn't fall down my face and took a few steps in.

Nick made to follow me, but I held out a hand and said, "Just… wait there…"

He obliged and I stepped over to the closet, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

I grabbed at random just to get it over with and found myself holding out a pair of decent jeans and a sweater towards Nick as I exited the room.

"Won't whoever lives there be mad when they realize an outfit is gone?" Nick asked as I shoved the clothes into his arms.

"No."

I pointed down the hall to the bathroom and he eyed me for a long, still moment before complying and going to change.

He came out of the bathroom looking better, even if it was just the clothes. I had to keep my eyes off of him was we headed downstairs for the garage. I'd drive him on the old Harley back to his performance just to make sure he didn't get beat up again.

"Nice bike," Nick commented as I whipped the dusty cover off.

"Get on."

"Do you have a license for this thing?"

"Like I ever go fast enough to be pulled over anyway," I dismissed mounting and holding out the spare helmet to him.

He cautiously climbed on behind me, and awkwardly put his arms around my waist as I started the engine.

Weaving through the busy streets back to Madison Square Garden was a silent affair and only took twenty minutes.

I stopped on the street a few blocks from the Garden where we could see lights flashing not only for the concert, but blue and red as well for the police.

As Nick got off the bike and strapped the helmet to the back seat, he asked, "Do you want to come to the show? Just hang out and stuff?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"No! No, I just… I don't really know how to thank you for, uh, what you did…"

"It wasn't anything…"

"It was to me."

"Well it wasn't to me."

He seemed a bit taken aback, but continued, "C'mon… what could it hurt?"

"Nothing… everything…"

His brow furrowed.

"What? Are you not used to girls _not_ throwing themselves all over you? Because if that's what you're waiting for, you've come to the wrong person."

"No… I don't take you for that sort…"

"Then what do you take me for?"

His expression was thoughtful and I interrupted before he could answer, "You better get over there… let the cops know you're ok and go on with your little Hollywood life."

"It's not all fun and games, you know…"

"I know… and that's why you don't have to do anything in return for what I did for you."

With that, I pulled my own helmet back on, revved the engine, and sped off, leaving Nick Jonas standing on the curb three blocks from Madison Square Garden, looking completely dumbfounded.

**XXX**

**A/N: there you have it.**

**Review if you will!!**

**-Reigh**


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